Trouble
by Zalein
Summary: Torn knew that cocky blond was trouble from the time he saw the kid’s first mission results.


_Author's Note: This was written assuming that Jak didn't go from Prison to Kor to Underground in under a span of five minutes; in this fic he took several long days, recovering from prison and having Daxter trying to talk him back into sanity. We see none of this, sadly, as this fic is centered around Torn._

_After this fic was written I sat around one of those Baron-talking-to-the-people-of-Haven-city thingies. 'Shadow' was mentioned some point or another, so apparently in the game the notorious rebel leader's alias is commonly known. In this fic it isn't. Whoops!_

_Enjoy!_

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He knew that cocky blond was trouble from the time he saw the kid's first mission results. Who he was trouble for, Torn still wasn't sure, but he did know that 'trouble' was the closest word he would ever find.

The Underground had been getting especially green recruits around the time that he joined. Recent news of a monster that had escaped from the Baron's Prison had stirred up many of the already resentful citizens, turning uncertain sympathizers to full-fledged Underground volunteers. Unfortunately for the rebellion, even more recent finds on Torn's part were showing that an appalling number of these new recruits lacked anything that might have helped the movement in the slightest.

For example, the last recruit before _the _kid had been a large, beefy guy with an irritating habit of guffawing heartily and pointing with his thumbs stuck out to the sides. After completing his first mission and getting halfway through his second, a few stray shots from a Krimzon Guard sent the punk's zoomer careening out of control. The guards had picked him up from where he'd crash-landed in a trench and carted him off immediately to prison for life—if he survived that long. Torn had been disgusted by the news, not only because of the newbie's lack of skill (the guards weren't exactly famous for their marksmanship) but because of the mountain of paperwork and the damage to morale it brought in its wake.

At least the recruit had gone out honorably. Small comfort, Torn knew, but it was better than other ends that he could have met. Take the recruit just before laughing-pointing-guy, for example. He was a skinny guy with purple hair, and had gone straight to a bar after his fourth mission and gotten royally smashed, bragging to anyone who would listen that he was part of the infamous Underground. Unfortunately for him the Underground's mythical name wasn't enough to protect him from the off duty Guard he just happened to sitting next to. Even if he hadn't had less muscle than a twig, Torn knew the poor guy probably wouldn't have lived much longer: he had no skills to use muscles for. When all was said and done, years of experience and familiarity with death left Torn simply filling out the paperwork on him like he did everyone else.

After a few incidents like those the Shadow made a few sharp decisions regarding the recruitment quota and assigned Torn to start personally confronting hopeful recruits. Immediately the more unlikely rebels—kids, really, all of them—were being scared off and the number of recruits was thinning. After only a few 'meetings' Torn's temper was wearing thinner. Each visit to some random dark alley frayed his nerves and tolerance, and in almost no time at all his patience was used up and he was flat out improvising to keep himself from strangling every newbie that came his way.

Tess was with him this time. With news of that new monster running around Haven, the Shadow had 'recommended' that Torn take someone with him for backup, and she was the only one available when he got the most recent call. Torn didn't care who he took, so long as they were getting out of Headquarters and getting it over with. Now that they were out in some miscellaneous alley Torn sulked in the shadows, brooding. Where were the former KG guards that had seen the light? Where was the glint of _steel _that would actually carry things forward and bring change to this rusting, collapsing city? It was impossible that these good soldiers were gone forever… If they were, though, what next? What was going to happen to Haven City? The Underground would continue to fight, of course, and as a commander he would fight with it, but that would be a slow, bloody process. The city needed something, Torn knew—it needed a _change_. It needed something so colossal that the crumbling walls imprisoning them on all sides would rush to meet the ground in an explosion of noise and action. It needed something that would prove that yes, something _could_ be done, that it was happening right then before their very eyes. It needed the impossible to be done, it needed—

Footsteps brought him out of his brooding stillness, prompting him to look up to the mouth of the alley they were in. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tess turning to look as well, but he ignored her in favor of examining this newbie with his eyes. Hadn't Kor said there would be two of them? Eh, maybe the second punk kid had wizened up during the ride, leaving his buddy to go on without him. Just as well—the boy left looked like bad news as it was. A street kid, most likely, full of brawn and wanting to knock KG heads together no matter who he did it for. He also had a furry pet of some sort on one shoulder. Torn didn't even try to hide his grimace. Just great. Kid wanted to join the underground, and would probably go try to go berserk the instant 'skippy' there got stepped on. Wouldn't that be just typical.

"You Torn?" the kid asked, speaking only when they were a few meters apart. Far enough to not to be easy kill for an average thug, Torn noted, but this kid probably had no idea just how skilled people needed to be to survive in the Underground: distance meant nothing to throwing knives.

The kid's eyes narrowed some when he got no answer, glancing murky-colored eyes at the voluptuous spy standing beside Torn's zoomer. Seeing his glare Tess put her hands on her hips and scowled right back. The boy, unimpressed and eyes narrowing even more, looked back to Torn. "Are you two deaf, or something? Or did I just not talk clearly enough?"

Torn had mostly ignored the boy's pet, but seeing it look directly at him and actually talk was unexpected. "Hey, Jak, maybe he's mute? Like, uh, you were?" Oh god, please don't tell him that _that_ was what Kor had meant by 'two recruits'? Fate was a bitch, but even this was something Torn wouldn't have expected.

"New faces make me jumpy." Torn snarled, making 'Jak' jerk back a little but not back down.

"Aaah, so he _can_ tal—" The rat started. Torn cut in, as though ignoring that rodent enough would make it go away.

"Word's out that you're looking to join the underground."

Apparently having decided that he who he'd been looking for, Jak nodded. "Seems like. We want to talk with the Shadow."

For the love of—of all the flat out stupid things that senile old man did, he'd actually mentioned the _Shadow_ to some brand new, random, complete and utter stranger!? Torn felt part of his face twitch, and he twisted the expression into a smile that wasn't kind. He even forced out an incredulous, mocking laugh to go with it.

"The Shadow? Nobody sees the Shadow, kid." Torn unfolded his arms, leaning forward a little to tower over the kid, who scowled up at him but didn't move. "You're looking a little raw for this line of work. Go home."

"That's not an option, so screw that!" Jak snapped back, making Torn raise his eyebrows a tad at his bitterness. Maybe he was a runaway? Yeah, very likely. "I'm joining the Underground. Kor sent me to look for Torn. Are you Torn, or are you wasting my time?!"

"I'm Torn, alright. The question is who're you? Some nobody punk out to make a name for himself?" It took an uncomfortable amount of self control not to let his expression flicker when the kid fixed him with a gaze full of more anger than his face had been built to manage. For a moment he felt Tess tensing beside him, reaching for the blaster she had pocketed somewhere in case she actually did need to defend her boss. It was unnecessary, and Torn had more than enough blades on him to make the kid back off if he tried anything, but…

"I'm Jak. This is Daxter." Great. The rat had a name. Torn ignored the ridiculous pose it made at the introduction, taking a step back and drawing one of the aforementioned blades. He sensed more than saw the kid tense up, but all he did was hold it up to the feeble light for closer scrutiny.

"Until you do something to prove your use you two are nothing." Torn turned, twirling the knife casually in one hand. "Hear me?"

Both newcomer's eyes tracked the blade while he talked, but Jak looked up at the question. "Yeah, I get it."

"Bring me the Baron's flag from the top tower in Dead Town. If you're good enough then maybe—just maybe you'll get in."

Jak folded his arms and gave one nod, swiveling his gaze from Tess to Torn one last time. Recognizing this new silence for what it was, Torn gave his wickedly-curved blade one last twirl, bestowing yet another unkind smile upon the blonde. "Well? What are you waiting for, directions?"

Jak glared at him, unfolding his arms and almost stomping away in poorly concealed ire. The rodent looked back at Torn and Tess until the two recruits were almost out of the alley, where they made a turn and were soon out of sight.

Torn sighed irritably, sheathing the blade.

"Poor kids." Tess said. He heard a grin in her tone, and he scowled at her. Seeing his look she quickly tried to look properly embarrassed, but didn't manage it very well. "You coulda at least told them they should start by going left!"

Torn looked back to the alley's mouth, replaying their exit in his mind. Sure enough, the two had turned right.

"That's their problem. We're not running a daycare center here, and if they can't use their own brains for their first mission then that's their problem."

Tess had the temerity to giggle, and Torn snorted. Without another word he turned and stalked towards their zoomer. It was time to head back to base. Maybe later they would check up on the tower and see if the flag was gone.

The flag was gone. So was the tower it had been on. Torn stared in a rare moment of flat out, jaw-hanging shock as he took in the cloud of dust wafting daintily towards him, the huge walls crumpled in a neat little pile before him, the trails of rubble skittering down to meet him…

Dust-colored from head to foot and trailing a rodent that had been through some painful-looking ordeals, Jak strode calmly towards him with a predatory smirk. He swung the flagpole forward and, with a flourish that made the pitiful remains of scarlet fabric flare, planted the pole's butt squarely in front of Torn.

At the very moment that the pole hit the ground a couple of walls shifted in the rubble behind them, rumbling hugely and throwing up an impressive mushroom cloud of dirt and dust. Jak didn't turn to look, only letting his smirk widen as Torn took in the sight of him framed by destruction and chaos.

Oh yes. There was no question to be asked about it: this boy was definitely trouble.

Maybe they could aim him at the Baron and turn him loose…

"Yeah," Torn said, "you got the job."

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End file.
